


Evidence

by idelthoughts



Series: Mortinez Fics [13]
Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: Post-Canon, Reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-19 21:28:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4761674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idelthoughts/pseuds/idelthoughts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing videos, botched murder investigations, and evidence tampering?  You don't get problems this big without Henry Morgan being involved somehow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Evidence

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to all the amazing authors and readers who continue to support this ficathon! You guys are so wonderful.
> 
> Thank you to SpaceCadet72 and PinkElephant5 for the beta work!

“Where is it, Jo?” Reece asked.

Jo’s breathing—controlled and deliberate—was the only thing breaking the silence in Reece’s office. Her eyes, focused somewhere behind Reece’s shoulder, held the terror of a suspect trying to keep it together when they knew there was nowhere left to run from the evidence.

“I can’t say,” Jo answered carefully, not looking at her.

“Why can’t you say?”

Jo dropped her gaze to her lap.

“I’m sorry, Lieu.”

Joanna Reece had spent fifteen years as a beat cop, five as a detective, and now two as lieutenant in charge of her own department. New York had shown her every stripe on its questionable hide, from the seediest junky on the street and their desperate, impulsive crime to the polished businessmen and their well-thought through machinations. For the most part, crime of any kind was business as usual. It was all part of the job, and it rarely troubled her. Do the crime, do the time—straight lines and natural consequences, for whomever ran afoul of the law.

Never in a million years did she think she’d be in this position with one of her own. With one of her best. But her flock would not stray like this on her watch, so it was time to get answers.

“I’ll give you one more chance, Detective Martinez. Where’s the video?” Jo worried at her bottom lip with her teeth, as though she had to bite hold of it to keep her mouth from opening, and Reece laced her fingers together to keep them from tapping on the desktop. “It’s down to you. There’s no one else could have taken it out of the evidence lockup in that time frame, no one else who would have had access to the crime scene to wipe the backup.”

Nothing. Slow, measured breathing, bottom lip firmly held between her teeth. Reece half expected Jo to start repeating her name, rank, and badge number.

“You’ll be suspended. You’ll lose your job. You know that.”

The threat—or rather, the truth—sat between them like a gauntlet thrown down, and finally Jo flinched. It wasn’t much; only a twitch of her head, almost a blink, but it was there.

Any Internal Affairs investigation would draw the same conclusion as Reece had upon reviewing the case notes. The holes in Jo’s report were obvious when she’d taken the time to read it in depth. If it came out in court, then more than Jo would be in trouble. The whole department would face ramifications.

Reece had a feeling she knew where this was coming from. There was no way Jo would do this on her own, or without a good reason. Without doing it to cover for someone. The head-on approach wouldn’t work, so she’d go through Jo to get her answers. Divide and conquer. The rules of war applied to management as often as they did on the battlefield.

If she held Jo in here long enough—

As if on cue, Reece’s office door shook as a fist pounded against the other side. The locked handle rattled, and then more slamming knocks. Jo jumped in her chair, twisting toward the door, eyes wide.

“Right on time,” Reece said.

“Lieu,” Jo started, but Reece held up a hand to silence her. Jo sunk back in her chair.

Reece stood and crossed to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open in one smooth motion. Henry stood in the doorway, fist raised to bang on the door again.

“Hello, Dr. Morgan,” she said.

“May I come in?” he said, but he was already pushing his way past Reece and into the room.

“Be my guest. Have a seat.”

She shut the door behind him and gestured towards the empty chair next to Jo, but Henry didn’t make any move towards it. He spared no glance for Jo, instead focusing on Reece.

“None of this is Detective Martinez’ fault,” Henry said, his tone that of someone who’d practiced his words several times over before delivering them. “I was solely responsible for the theft, as well as the destruction of the original parking garage security camera recording of Andrea Schippling’s murder. She had no knowledge or involvement in either action.”

“Imagine my shock and surprise.” Reece folded her arms and sat on the corner of her desk.

“Henry,” Jo said quietly, but Henry ignored her.

He stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back, stiff and straight as military parade-ground posture.

“I am prepared to face the consequences for these actions.”

Henry gave a single definitive nod, then settled in to wait. He certainly seemed to think he’d solved the problem. Jo, smart woman that she was, looked nowhere near as certain.

“Not good enough,” Reece said, enunciating sharply. “I need that tape. You are welcome to share the consequences, but Detective Martinez’ career is finished. You threw her under the bus, Henry. No one is going to work with a dirty cop, least of all me.”

Jo sucked in a sharp breath at the words _dirty cop_. She leaned forward, suddenly pale, elbows dropping onto her knees as she held her hands to her face over her mouth. For the first time, a hint of guilt seeped into Reece’s anger. Jo wasn’t a bad police officer, she’d made a mistake. However, Reece needed results, and being nice wasn’t going to get them.

“But I’m guilty,” Henry said, a hand to his chest. “You have your whipping boy.”

“You’re both guilty.” She pointed a finger at the shoddy report on her desk. “This? This is a joke. I know her. She would never mess up evidence like this. From someone else, I might buy it. But not you, Jo.”

She addressed the last to Jo, twisting the knife. Jo closed her eyes, avoiding the accusation. She looked like she might be sick, but she was holding it together remarkably well, even with Reece putting as much pressure on as she could without marching IA through the door.

Henry was starting to squirm. He eyed her carefully, sizing her up, and Reece let him have his fill, waiting for his answer. Henry had never been a patient man, constantly strutting out ahead of investigations and scampering through the fuzzy grey edges of rules and regulations to get what he wanted, and she suspected it wouldn’t take long.

“She has nothing to do with this,” Henry said.

There was a threatening edge to his tone now, and Reece narrowed her eyes. Fine, they’d do it this way.

“Who gave you access to the crime scene?”

“That’s not—no one. I broke in,” Henry said, sputtering his response.

“And who gave you access to the evidence lockup?” she said, speaking over the end of his protest.

“I…“ he stumbled on that one, eyes darting as he scrolled through excuses in his mind. “I—“

“You what? Broke in there too? In a police station, past the desk sergeant? Will I find your name signed in, or did you knock him out cold and steal it?” She stood up and advanced on Henry, putting them nose to nose. Henry held his ground, but he looked ready to backpedal. “I want that recording, and _now_.”

“Henry,” Jo interjected quietly, and both of them looked to her. She shook her head minutely. “You don’t have to do this. It’s okay.”

“It is _not_.”

Henry’s jaw muscles jumped as he ground his teeth together. Henry never liked to lose the upper hand, but all three of them knew that Reece had him over a barrel. Unless he was willing to let Jo sacrifice her career for whatever was going on, he had to surrender.

However, if there was anything she’d learned about the strange and private Dr. Morgan during the past two years of watching him follow Jo around with puppy-like devotion, it’s that he’d give his life for her if he could. In the last year their relationship had changed, the two of them growing closer, and Reece was sure that if they weren’t sleeping together yet, it was only a matter of time. She had bets on wedding bells, frankly, and she didn’t think Henry was going to let Jo’s life be destroyed. Especially not to protect him from whatever foolish thing he’d done—something big enough that Jo was willing to go to such lengths to protect him.

Sure enough, Henry looked at Jo. After some silent conversation that took place with only a look, Henry turned away and paced the length of the wall with his hands balled into fists and shoved deep in his pockets. At the end of the room he paused and took several deep breaths as though steadying himself, then from one of his pockets he produced a USB stick. He looked at the USB stick in his hand, then with sharp and decisive steps approach Reece and held out the stick to her.

“Here is the security camera footage from the parking garage the night of the murder. It contains footage of Andrea Schippling’s stabbing, perpetrated by her husband, as speculated.”

Reece took the USB stick, but Henry’s grip was firm. It took a sharp tug before he released it. She turned it over between her fingers as she studied Henry’s tense, pale face. Henry’s eyes hadn’t left the stick; he hovered next to her as though he might snatch it back at any moment.

“Did you alter the footage? Nothing about this situation will change if there’s signs of tampering. I need the original.”

Henry looked up at her, and then to Jo. Jo was straight in her chair, hands clasped and between her knees, listening attentively. Henry’s shoulders slumped with the same defeat that hits a suspect in the interrogation room when they’ve finally given up. He shook his head, then turned away to pace again, finally settling into position by the window, hands clasped again behind his back, one restlessly tapping against the other. He cleared his throat and turned back toward her.

“I didn’t alter it. This is the original.”

He was looking at Jo as he spoke, and Reece wondered if the statement was for her, or for Jo. The words sounded forced, like he was choking on them, and then Henry eyed the office door. The desire to flee was written all over him. Jo stood and moved to him, putting a hand on his arm and squeezing gently. It took a moment, but Henry nodded to whatever unspoken statement Jo’s expression said to him, and refocused his attention to the patch of carpet in front of him, settling in to wait for whatever was coming.

“Thank you,” she heard Jo whisper.

Jo turned to Reece and folded her arms, and Reece raised an eyebrow. She was standing half in front of Henry like she was shielding him, ready to run whatever interference needed running.

“Do I get the truth now?” Reece asked.

“Probably more truth than you want,” Jo said. She shook her hair back from her face and checked over her shoulder at Henry as though to make sure he was still there and hadn’t sprinted for the door, then gave her attention to Reece again. “I’ve known for a year and I still have trouble with it, so…” Her arms tightened around her body, hands tucked tight to her sides. “Look, Lieu, you know I trust you. I’ve told Henry he can trust you, but he’s going on faith here, so—”

“I am losing patience, Jo,” Reece warned. “Spit it out.”

“Schippling wasn’t the only victim that night.”

Reece paused. She hadn’t known what to expect, but this wasn’t it.

“What do you mean? Who was the other victim?”

“Me,” Henry said, finally lifting his head. “It was me.”

Henry was covered in a sheen of sweat, like he was running a marathon. Reece had seen Henry in a number of contexts, and never had she seen him this off his game. Even sitting in her office, fresh from being booked for indecent exposure, he’d been so glib and polished that she’d wondered if anything truly affected him. She flipped the USB key in her fingers again as she thought, looking between the two of them.

“I’m sure I don’t have to point out that there is a slight problem with that statement,” Reece said. “Namely that Henry is still here, conspicuously alive and well.”

Behind Jo, Henry shifted on his feet and made a strangled noise, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling.

“Yeah,” Jo said slowly, and she tucked her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, that’s kinda the problem. Maybe we should watch the footage, and then it’ll make more sense.”

She didn’t enjoy being toyed with, and she was tempted to toss them both in holding and leave them there for the night to teach them the consequences of all this foot-dragging, but she took hold of her anger and reined it back in, instead standing and moving to her laptop.

Reece shoved the USB stick into the port and opened the file with the security camera footage. In the periphery of her vision she could see Jo attending to Henry. She said something to him too quietly for her to hear, and then Henry nodded and moved to the chair. As the video loaded, she looked up to find Henry’s attention riveted to her, his fingers clenched and white around the armrests. Jo had a hand on his shoulder, as though making sure he stayed put. Apparently Reece wasn’t the only one who thought Henry was about to do a runner.

“This had better be good,” she said to them.

“I’m not sure that’s what I’d call it,” Henry muttered.

“Just watch,” Jo said, squeezing Henry’s shoulder. “It’ll explain things. The attack takes place at two hours and forty-three minutes.”

Reece skipped ahead in the video to that time stamp.

Sure enough, Gregory and Andrea Schippling’s car was in view. They rolled to a stop and exited the car, arguing violently, until he grabbed her by the front of her shirt and drove a knife into her stomach.

From behind Gregory, a figure ran in and grabbed him by the arm, yanking him back. Gregory lost his hold on Andrea and she sank to the ground. Gregory slashed out, catching the man in the neck. Gregory backed off, shuffling backward until he turned to sprint off, quickly out of frame of the parking garage camera. The man staggered around and fell to his knees, clutching his neck, facing the camera.

There was no mistaking the trim figure in the finely tailored suit, the scarf trailing on the ground, now soaked in blood. On the screen, in black and white, Henry Morgan collapsed from hands and knees to his side. Next to him, Andrea Schippling bled out from her stomach wound. Henry reached for her, but didn’t make it before he went limp and his arm fell to the cement floor.

He stopped moving. For thirty seconds, nothing changed but for the growing pools of blood.

Then, without fanfare or any sort of warning, Henry was gone. Andrea Schippling’s body lay as they’d found her.

Reece paused the video. She put her hands together and rested her chin against them, staring at the frozen image of the body, lying alone. It wasn’t just Henry’s body that was missing. His blood was gone. There was no indication he’d ever been there. She looked up at Jo and Henry, who were both watching her. Henry had Jo’s hand tight in his, pressing it to his chest.

“You haven’t altered this video?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

They both shook their heads no, and Reece looked back at the screen. She backed it up and watched the scene again. Henry, interrupting the fight, then slashed in the throat. Blood, collapsing, trying to reach Andrea, then stillness. There—then gone.

Reece had a feeling she was going to wish that Henry hadn’t given her this video after all.

“Explain to me what I’m watching.”

Henry made a poor attempt at a smile, a nervous grimace that was accompanied by a strained chuckle.

“It’s a long story,” he said.

“Well make it a short one, Doctor,” she snapped, “because I’ve had about all I can take right now, and if this isn’t good, you’re both going to be in deeper crap than I can even begin to describe.”

***

Days like this, Reece wished she kept a bottle of scotch in her drawer.

Henry had finished spinning his story, straight out of a fairy tale, both him and Jo looking at her with deadly seriousness.

“If this is such a secret,” Reece said, gesturing to her screen, “why didn’t you destroy this too?”

“I wanted to study it. So far as I know, my disappearance has never been filmed before. I’d thought in the past about filming my death for my own research into my condition. In the end, I didn’t want to risk evidence like that falling into the wrong hands, no matter how carefully I guarded it. But I thought, since it was already there, I’d take the opportunity.” He ran his free hand over his damp brow, grimacing. “Damn, I need some air.”

“You going to tell her the rest?” Jo asked him quietly.

“No.” He stood, releasing Jo’s hand. “I die, I come back in the river, it’s happened more than once. The rest… the rest is complicated, and private.” To Reece, he said, “I think you have more than enough information as it is. I’m sure you understand why I took the actions I took, and I regret Jo’s involvement more than I can say. I beg you not to punish her for this. Now, if you don’t mind, Lieutenant, I’ll step out for a moment.”

Reece leaned back in her chair.

“Are you going to still be here afterwards?” she asked.

“Yes. For now,” he said. Jo looked as unconvinced as Reece felt, and Henry put a hand on Jo’s back and leaned close to kiss her on the cheek gently before withdrawing. To her, he said quietly, “I promise, I’ll stay as long as I can.”

Jo nodded. Henry gave Reece a stiff little bow in acknowledgement, and then he left the office.

Jo came to sit next to Reece on the edge of the desk, both of them staring at the chair where Henry had sat.

“What the hell is this, Jo? Do you believe this?” she asked.

“I have to—I’ve seen it,” Jo said. “You remember that case about six months ago, with the drive-by shooting? I said I was alone when they made the attempt on my life, but I wasn’t. Henry got shot in the back when he knocked me down to cover me.” Jo’s voice went hoarse with the memory of it. “It’s as real as anyone dying. He just doesn’t do it permanently.”

“I’d like to believe you wouldn’t lie to me, Jo, but…” Reece trailed off.

She was starting to feel a little bit like she’d wandered into the Twilight Zone. She didn’t like things she didn’t understand. Hell, that was half the reason she’d become a detective—she hated mysteries. Solving them was as much revenge on life for creating them in the first place as it was seeking justice.

“Yeah, I know. He told me, and I had all the evidence, which is… extensive, let’s say, when you get the whole story. But I don’t think I really believed him until he bled out right in front of me. It took actually seeing him die for it to be real.”

“How did this happen?”

“He doesn’t know. He’s just stuck.”

“Shit.” There didn’t seem to be any other response, and Jo nodded as though she knew it. Reece looked at the USB stick she’d pulled from the computer, nestled again in her palm. “I can’t submit this into evidence. It’ll look like it’s been altered. Anyone would think it was altered. _I_ still think it’s altered.”

But she didn’t really, and that horrible doubt that this was all true was leaving her very confused.

“What are you going to do?” Jo asked.

Reece, after a moment’s deliberation, handed the USB stick to Jo. Henry was weird, a little abrasive and odd, but he was, at heart, a good person. He’d proven that over time. More importantly, he was one of the family. He was under her protection, same as any of her people.

“We’re going to go over your report and fix it up, create a stronger scenario for this being a series of clerical errors. I’m sad to say those are pretty common, and while I might not buy it from you, more than one lawyer has had to put up with them. Then you and Hanson are going to rip Schippling’s life apart until you find the murder weapon, because I am not letting that bastard go free. Got it?”

Jo nodded as she took the USB stick and shoved it into her pocket. Reece stood and paced to the window, hands on her hips.

“And Henry?” Jo asked from behind her.

“That depends,” she said. She turned to face Jo. “Is it going to come up again?”

Jo shrugged.

“He’s not exactly cautious.”

“You don’t say,” Reece said wryly. “At least now I know why.”

“I'm not sure if he'll stick around after this. He almost left when he realized there was a security camera with footage we were going to pull. This whole plan he worked out… I don’t know if I should have helped him or not—“

“Jo, stop. I don’t want to know. The less I know, the better. I’m going to file this under things in people’s private lives that are none of my business, we’re going to tidy this up, and then forget about it. He’s your boyfriend, you can deal with him. Tell him to stay alive like a normal person. People manage to get through life without dying all the time, I’m sure he can figure it out.”

Jo looked taken aback, then said, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Then there’s another loose end you can clean up,” Reece said. “Because I know I’m sick of waiting for you two to get around to it.”

Jo’s cheeks were pink, and she looked everywhere but Reece. Reece indulged herself in a small bit of petty satisfaction at making Jo as uncomfortable as she felt right now.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks. I think,” Jo said.

“Now, get out of my office. Go tell Henry it’s business as usual. If he’s not halfway to New Mexico by now, that is.”

Jo nodded and scurried out of her office, shutting the door firmly behind her. The moment she was gone, Reece swore loud and long into the emptiness of her office.

Why couldn’t it be something simple, like taking bribes, or life-ruining alcoholism and divorce? No, she had to have an undying M.E.

They didn’t train you for things like this in NYPD management courses.

 


End file.
